Twenty minutes later Diana was sitting in the sunny kitchen with Tyler and Simon, both of whom had read Nan’s letter. “Simon, Clarice told me about seeing Glen at Penny’s and also about Nan watching them one night,” Diana said when Simon had finished the letter. “The coincidence is that Nan dropped by yesterday afternoon and she wanted to tell me about her and Glen. She didn’t get out much except that the affair had started in April. Then Blake came and I left her sitting in the kitchen. I knew she had more to tell me and I just left her sitting, waiting, while you and I spoke to Blake.” She looked at Tyler. “He told us Penny was pregnant.”
Tyler stared at Diana for a moment, obviously stunned. Finally he said desolately, “I had no idea Penny was pregnant.”
“I’m sure it’s Glen’s child,” Diana said flatly. The doctor thinks she’s about two months along. Clarice said Glen first visited Penny’s house two months ago. Thanks to Nan, Glen knew who Penny was. I think he was keeping his silence in return for sex.”
“Dear God,” Simon said in disgust.
“I believe that’s why Penny never told me about seeing him,” Diana went on. “I think his knowing about her past and the pregnancy were the reasons Penny was leaving. Anyway, Nan was here when Blake told us about the pregnancy. I heard Nan drop her glass. She was eavesdropping, as usual. I’m certain she didn’t know Penny was pregnant. I don’t know if she felt shock, or hurt, or both, but something sent her right out the back door.
“To make things worse, Glen called and I stupidly told him Nan had been here and that she wanted to tell me something important.” Diana paused and took a breath. “I think Glen knew Nan had found out about him and Penny. He would have been humiliated if Nan told me about he was having an affair with Penny, but I believe he would have thought I’d keep it quiet for Penny’s sake.
“But how would he have felt if Penny had told me about the sexual blackmail? You know Glen, Simon. Reputation is everything to him. He would know I’d tell you and you would be certain to inform the university administration, and worse still, if I thought he had anything to do with Penny’s death, I’d go to the police. And finally he had Nan who wouldn’t let him go and who knew too much.” Diana looked into Simon’s narrowed, dark green eyes. “If Glen placed that bomb in Penny’s basement, just how far do you think he’d have to be pushed to get rid of Nan, too?”
“Who wants to get rid of Nan?”
Simon, Tyler, and Diana looked at Willow with various levels of shock and dismay. Simon was the first to recover. “Nan’s mother is coming back to work next week and we’ll all be happier. At least I will. How about you, Willow?”
“I’ll be lots happier,” the little girl said. She looked at Tyler and frowned. “How come you’re still here?”
“Uh . . . because Diana asked me to stay.”
Willow immediately looked wary. “Diana did? Why?”
Tyler took a deep breath, left his chair, and kneeled down beside the girl. “Your mommy didn’t want you to talk to people about me. I was supposed to be a big secret. But the secret’s out, kid.” He grinned. “Everybody here knows all about me, and your mommy would be glad they do. She told you to call me Badge just like she did. My real name is Tyler, but Badge was her nickname for me because I’m a police officer. I live in New York City, where you used to live. Your mother and I are like brother and sister, and I consider you my niece, just like Simon does. We all love you and we’re all here to protect you. But I’m the policeman, what they call an undercover cop, so I don’t wear a uniform.”
Willow reached out and touched his earlobe. “Is that why you have a little hole there? So you can wear an earring sometimes and look like a tough guy?”
“That’s exactly the reason. How smart of you. But whether I wear a uniform or an earring, it’s my job to keep bad people away from good people. I spent years training how to do it. I did it last night, didn’t I?” Willow nodded. “And you weren’t surprised. You said you knew I’d save you.” He reached out and touched the end of her nose. “Somehow, you sensed that’s my purpose in life—to protect pretty, smart little girls like you.”
She giggled. “Mommy never told me, but I knew she thought you could do just about anything. That’s how I knew you’d always protect me.”
Afterward Willow seemed slightly buoyed by Tyler’s presence, and managed to wolf down three doughnuts before Diana said, “I think we should save some for later, honey. You don’t want to get a tummyache.”
“Okay,” Willow agreed affably. “Thank you for lettin’ me eat doughnuts instead of scrambled eggs, Uncle Simon.”
Simon beamed with pleasure. “You’re most welcome, sweetheart, and I agree pastry tastes better than eggs, but we do need eggs sometimes.”
“That’s what Clarice says.” Willow scooted off her chair. “I’d better go upstairs and check on the cats. They might need me.”
She’d barely exited the kitchen before the phone rang. Simon answered the kitchen extension. Diana could hear a woman’s loud, excited voice. Simon remained calm, saying, “Yes . . . Of course . . . I understand perfectly—she must take care of her own health now. . . . I will be at the airport tomorrow to collect both of you. Just call me back and let me know what flight she’ll be taking.”
When he hung up, he looked at Diana. “That was Martha Murphy’s sister. She says Martha is in quite a state today—who wouldn’t be after just finding out their daughter has been brutally murdered? We let her know last night, Diana, before you remembered what had happened. Anyway, the doctor advises that she not fly back from Portland until tomorrow. Her sister is coming with her, thank goodness. The last thing the poor lady needs is to be alone. I will be picking them up at the airport. I won’t have them out there trying to manage luggage and find a taxi.” He looked down at the elegant satin robe Diana had bought him the previous Christmas. “And now I believe I should put on more mundane attire and leave you young people alone to talk.”
After Simon left, Tyler looked at Diana and quirked an eyebrow. “Well, young person, what do you think?”
“I think I definitely need to give Nan’s confession to the police when I go in to make my statement today.” Tyler nodded. “And I’m now even more afraid of Jeffrey Cavanaugh than I was before. Tyler, thanks to Nan he might have known where Penny was for a couple of months before he showed up.”
“Then why didn’t he show up?”
“You sound like you’re defending him.”
“I would be the last person to defend Jeffrey Cavanaugh for anything. I hate him. But that’s my emotional side. My logical side tells me something just doesn’t fit.” He sighed and ran a hand across his forehead then over his cheeks. He looked at her with slightly bloodshot eyes and smiled. “I had a perfectly lovely evening, Miss Sheridan. I’ve never enjoyed a night on a couch with a woman as much in my life.”
Diana grinned. “I’m not certain how to take that statement.”
“In the best possible way. But, my darlin’ girl, I need a shower, and a shave, and a change of clothes. Then I’m going to escort you to police headquarters so you can give your statement.”
“Oh, Tyler, I’ve imposed on you enough.”
“Shush. You haven’t even heard the rest of my plan. We aren’t going alone. We are going to take Willow with us.”
“To the police station? It will scare her.”
“I’ll bet it won’t. She’ll get a kick out of it. Then we’re going to take her out to lunch and then maybe you can show me Marshall University. Simon taught there. You attended it, didn’t you?”
“Of course. So did Penny.”
“Then Willow will love going there. You can take pictures of her.”
Diana frowned. “With everything going on, don’t you think Willow might be safer staying here?”
“No, I don’t. If Jeffrey or his relatives read the newspaper, they’ll know Nan was murdered. I talked to a couple of the reporters and pleaded that your name be left out as the person who found her, but I don’t have any influence around here. And if Jeffrey gets wind of what happened at this house last night, he’ll be here banging down the door until he gets Willow. He might have some trouble actually taking her away after that scene in the park yesterday—in a way, he did us a kindness—but that child doesn’t need to be frightened any more. She already looks pale and worn. She just had her appendix removed last week and now she’s going through hell with no recovery time. She needs to get out of this house, Diana. She needs to have some fun. I know you tried with her yesterday, but it didn’t work. So let’s try today.”
“But she’ll be right out in the open, Tyler.”
“That’s the point. Jeffrey was in a rage yesterday or he wouldn’t have almost hit you in public. He won’t repeat the mistake. And who else is going to try anything in front of a hundred witnesses?” He lowered his voice. “Whereas if Willow stays here, she’ll be under the protection of a man and woman in their seventies. Do you want them having to face down Jeffrey Cavanaugh?”
Diana took only a minute to make up her mind. “Come back in an hour, Tyler. Willow and I will be ready to go.”
“That’s my girl,” he said, standing and drawing her up, pulling her against him and giving her a deep, lasting kiss. “That’s the girl Penny said was the one for me.”
Diana informed Simon of her and Tyler’s plan, downplaying the suggestion that he and Clarice might not be adequate protection for Willow. If the man realized the implication, he didn’t reveal himself. “I think that’s just fine,” he said heartily. “Clarice will fret over Willow all day, wanting to check on her every fifteen minutes, and the dear woman needs to rest. Yesterday was a bit much for her—the arthritis is causing her pain. And Willow could certainly use some fresh air and some fun. The three of you go and have a wonderful day.”
Tyler left and Diana went upstairs to tell Willow the plans for the day. Her face brightened considerably at the thought of going on an adventure with Diana and Tyler, and she immediately selected a pair of bright-yellow shorts and a T-shirt with color blocks of yellow, white, and blue. After her bath, she requested that Diana pull up her long strawberry-blond hair into a ponytail with a yellow ribbon. They gazed at the finished product in the mirror.
“You look stunning, mademoiselle,” Diana said. “Trés elegante.”
To her surprise, Willow’s smile faded. “What language was that?”
“French. I took it in college, but I don’t speak very well. Why?”
“ ’Cause Mommy was tryin’ to learn a different language. She called me mamadosel once, too, so it must have been French.” She frowned. “And someone else said some words to me in that language, I think.”
“Who was it?” Diana asked.
“I don’t remember, but Mommy was tryin’ to learn the language for him.” Usually anything Penny liked intrigued Willow, but now the vague memory seemed to trouble her. “Mommy said some day I’d be able to talk in that language.”
Diana turned the little girl around to face her. “It was a man who spoke the language to you?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know who?”
“I told you I don’t remember.”
“Was it when you lived in your house in Huntington?”
“Yeah, but it was a long time ago. Maybe when we just moved here.”
“It wasn’t Badge?”
“Tyler,” Willow corrected. “We’re s’posed to call him Tyler, remember? And it wasn’t him.” Willow’s earlier brightness seemed to diminish. “Maybe I just dreamed it or I heard it on TV.” She rubbed her forehead. “I think I’m gettin’ a headache.”
“Why don’t you sit on your bed and watch television while I get ready?” Diana suggested briskly. “If you still have a headache when I’m finished, I’ll give you a pill for it.” Get Willow’s mind off this subject, Diana thought. Something about this memory disturbs her. “Oh, honey, don’t let me forget to take back the clothes the nice nurse at the hospital loaned you to wear home. I washed the dress and the underwear, and the nurse’s little girl might want to wear those clothes this week. I can’t forget the sandals she loaned you, too.”
“Do we have to stay at the hospital?” Willow asked cautiously.
“No. You don’t even have to go inside. I’ll just drop off the clothes at the front desk.”
Willow looked relieved to know she didn’t have to venture inside the hospital walls. No wonder, Diana thought. She probably remembered only the sound of firecrackers going off in a metal waste can and the ensuing pandemonium.
Diana left Willow discussing her plans for the day with the cats, consoling them for not going along by telling them the streets of Huntington would be really hot and crowded and someone would be sure to step on Romeo. Smiling as she stepped into a hot shower, Diana imagined the two cats sightseeing like tourists.
Lost in thought, she put on too much shampoo and spent five minutes rinsing it out of her hair and another five trying to flush it from her stinging right eye. Finally she emerged from the shower to blow-dry her thick golden-brown locks, so like her mother’s, then use a flat iron to smooth the unruly curls.
Diana certainly didn’t feel like wearing dark, heavy jeans, so she chose a pair of white cotton-sateen slacks that showed off her flat abdomen, and a lavender, pale-green, and blue tank top to wear beneath a delicate, white georgette blouse. She then swept some light-green shadow on her eyelids, a gold-apricot blush on her cheeks, sheer apricot lip gloss, and a coating of black mascara, and finished by pulling back the sides of her hair and fastening them with two faux-pearl combs.
“What do you think?” she asked, stepping into Willow’s room and twirling.
Willow quickly slid off the bed. “Gosh, Diana, you look be-u-ti-ful!” she exclaimed. “I can’t wait till I get to wear high heels like you.”
“After you’ve spent a day in high heels, you might change your mind,” Diana said, looking down at her strappy sandals with the three-inch cork heels.
“And your toenails are painted pink!” Willow laughed in glee. “Mommy’s are always painted pink or red. Always!”
“Then we’ll paint yours pink tonight. Would you like that?”
“Oh yes.” Willow sighed. “I just can’t wait to be grown up.”
“Don’t wish away your time, honey” Diana said softly. “Being grown up isn’t always easy or fun.”
Willow looked at her solemnly. “Neither is bein’ a kid, Diana.”
“Are you sure they won’t put us in jail, Badge—I mean Tyler?” Willow asked as they pulled up in front of the building housing the Detective Bureau of the Cabell County Sheriff’s Department. “I can’t think of anything I’ve done wrong, but maybe they have a file on me.”
“A file?” Tyler asked.
“Yeah. On TV the cops always have files on people.”
Tyler and Diana both tried not to grin. “I think most of those people are older than five, Willow. You and I are just going in to look around while Diana talks to a detective.”
Willow looked at Diana and warned urgently, “Don’t say anything incinerating.”
Tyler had to turn his head so Willow wouldn’t see him laughing, but Diana managed to keep a straight face. “I’m glad you reminded me, Willow. You certainly must watch a lot of police shows.”
“I do. I might want to be a detective.”
“I thought you wanted to be a photographer like me. Or sing in a rock group.”
“I can do all those things,” Willow said confidently. “Tyler can help me be a cop and you can help me be a picture-taker. I’ll be a rock singer at night.” She drew a deep breath. “Well, let’s get this over with so we can go have lunch.”
Inside the building, Tyler told Diana she would be talking to a Detective Silver. “Tell her everything you know. Oh, and be careful not to incriminate or incinerate yourself.”
“I’ll try, but I’m so nervous, I’m not making any promises about the latter. I might just spontaneously combust at any moment.”
Detective Miriam Silver—slim, fortyish, with silver threads in her short black hair, and lively hazel eyes—immediately put Diana at her ease.
“So you’re Diana Sheridan, the photographer,” Detective Silver said, smiling as she leaned toward Diana who sat beside her cluttered desk in a large room with several other detectives’ desks. “My husband and I saw a display of your work in the Huntington Museum of Art in February. We both fell in love with a photograph called, ‘Willow in the Wind.’ ”
“It’s one of my favorites,” Diana said, thinking of the early-November day when she’d been taking shots of the red, gold, and bronze leaves of the woods near Simon’s house. Suddenly Willow had wandered into the shot holding a yellow chrysanthemum. A gentle breeze had blown up, and Willow tilted back her head and closed her eyes, her profile perfect, her hair seeming to float against the background of vivid leaves. Diana had immediately shot the frontlit scene, firing off several frames.
When she’d shown the photo to Penny, she had been delighted at first. Then she’d asked Diana not to display it in any of the big cities like New York. Not understanding the problem at the time but still wanting to please Penny, Diana had said she’d put it only in her local showing at the museum in February. After the showing, Diana had given the framed photo to Penny, who had thrown her arms around Diana and cried. I should have known then something was wrong, Diana thought. I should have known when she acted so nervous about the photo being shown anywhere except locally.
“Are you all right?” Detective Silver asked.
“Yes. I was just remembering when I took the picture. The little girl’s mother, Penny Conley, or Cavanaugh, didn’t want me to show it in New York. Of course, that’s where her husband and his sister and friends live. The child’s real name is Cornelia, but Penny called her Willow. Willow loved the book Wind in the Willows, so I used it to come up with the title for the photo.”
“Beautiful photo, beautiful title, beautiful little girl.” Without making a fuss, Detective Silver handed Diana a tissue.
Diana dabbed at her eyes. “I’ve never been much of a crier, but I feel like all I’ve done for the last few days is cry or scream.” She blew her nose. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Crying is a release. Besides, you didn’t blow your nose on someone’s embroidered handkerchiefs—the kind I don’t even own.” Diana laughed. “Willow was the little girl somebody tried to shoot at your house last night.”
“Yes. She’s been staying with us ever since the house explosion. Her mother is in the burn unit. Willow had nowhere else to go. Then the police discovered Penny is the runaway wife of Jeffrey Cavanaugh of New York City, and Willow is his daughter. Jeffrey and his sister, Lenore, and brother-in-law, Blake Wentworth, arrived Saturday.” Diana was certain Detective Silver already knew this, but telling it helped her lead into what frightened her the most. “Jeffrey Cavanaugh wanted to take Willow then, but she had a fit. She was terrified of him, and he made things even worse yesterday when Willow, Lenore, and I were trying to have a picnic and he arrived, shouting at me that I’d kept information from him. He almost hit me.”
“Yes, we got a call from Tyler Raines about that incident. He phoned from the park.” Diana almost smiled. Somehow, she’d known he’d made that call. “Now what went on last night, Ms. Sheridan?”
“I’d gone out Sunday evening. Something happened. Later, I couldn’t have told you what happened because when I woke up in the hospital, I had a concussion and no short-term memory. I remembered that I’d gone to the home of our temporary housekeeper, Nan Murphy. I found her in the attic, murdered. Her head looked as if it had been nearly severed. . . .” Abruptly Diana’s voice began to shake. Detective Silver reached over and touched her hand. Diana took a breath. “Whoever had killed Nan was still in the attic. He kicked dirt into my eyes so I didn’t get a look at him. Then he pushed me down the attic steps.
“I returned home remembering nothing about the whole thing,” Diana went on. “Then about two in the morning, our cats woke me up. Well, actually I think a sound had begun to wake me before the cats did, but I’m still fuzzy on that point. I kept thinking I heard raindrops, but it wasn’t raining. I rushed to Willow’s room. She was gone. Her window was up. She never sleeps with a window open, so I knew something was wrong.
“I went outside. I thought I saw Willow running on the edge of the woods, and went after her. As soon as I’d gotten her, someone started shooting at us. I pushed her to the ground and tried to cover her with my body. I heard the shots coming closer and I could tell someone was standing almost directly over us. I thought we’d be dead in less than a minute. I heard another shot and shouting. Lights from the house came on, I heard yet another shot and someone running. . . . It just all went so fast. Then I heard Tyler Raines’s voice telling Willow and me we were safe. He also told me he was a New York City detective and Penny’s foster brother. He helped her disappear.”
Silver nodded. “I know. Of course, there will be some consequences for his part in creating Penny Cavanaugh’s false identity.”
“What kind of consequences?” Diana asked alarmed.
“The New York authorities will have to decide that. He wasn’t helping a criminal escape. He has an otherwise spotless record. He’s even been decorated for bravery.”
“He didn’t tell me about being decorated for bravery.” Diana smiled. “Clarice will be delighted.”
“That would be Clarice Hanson?”
“Yes. She’s been living with my great-uncle and me since her house was damaged by the explosion. She helps us take care of Willow.”
“That’s nice. I’m sure she enjoys it.” Detective Silver gave her an absent smile then asked, “Ms. Sheridan, why did you go to Nan Murphy’s house?”
“Nan had come by earlier in the day. She said she had something important to tell me about Penny. I thought I already knew what that was. As I’m certain you know, Nan was nineteen and a student at Marshall last year. She was in Glen Austen’s history class. I’ve been seeing Glen for about seven months. Nan told me she and Glen began an affair in April.”
“Were you upset about this?”
“I was upset that a thirty-five-year-old college professor was taking advantage of a nineteen-year-old student. I know student-professor affairs are rampant, but I thought Glen was too—oh, I don’t know—noble. I was not hurt, though.”
“Really? You found out a man with whom you’ve had a relationship for a year has been sexually involved with a student and you weren’t hurt?”
“No, I was not.” Diana leaned a bit closer to Detective Silver, sensing other people close by might be listening. “I started seeing Glen in January, not a year ago. I was never serious about him. Our relationship was not even sexual, which may be why he turned to someone else. I could have understood that. If he’d been involved with a woman, not a teenager, I probably would have been relieved. I’ve been trying to think of ways to gracefully break off our relationship because I live with my great-uncle and he and Glen are friends. Or were friends.”
“So you’ve told your uncle about Glen and Nan?”
“Actually Clarice did. She had seen a man come to Penny’s house a few times—a man Penny didn’t seem happy to see. Clarice had no idea the man was my ‘admirer,’ as she put it, until he came by Uncle Simon’s house and she saw him there. Anyway, Nan and I talked in the kitchen. She told me about her and Glen.
“She had more to say but Blake Wentworth stopped by. He said he only had a few minutes and he needed to see me and I excused myself from Nan. He wanted to apologize for the way his brother-in-law had treated me in the park. Then he added that while Jeffrey Cavanaugh had been with Penny earlier in the day, the doctor had told him Penny was pregnant. I heard a glass shatter in the kitchen. When I ran in, I saw Nan was in her car, leaving. I went to her house that night to find out what she had wanted to tell me.”
Detective Silver’s dark eyebrows drew together. “Do you think Nan knew Penny was pregnant?”
“No, I don’t. I believe she overheard Blake telling Simon and me. That’s when she dropped her glass in surprise.”
“I see. So what she wanted to tell you was not that Penny was pregnant.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You know that her house showed signs she was leaving?”
“I noticed a suitcase out that night. I think she’d brought it down from the attic.”
“Do you believe she was leaving because of Mr. Austen? Do you think she didn’t want to be around him when she was certain he’d been having an affair with Penny?”
“I believe she wanted to get away from him. I don’t think it was because of the pregnancy, though. She’d already made her plans before she found out Penny was pregnant.” Diana reached in her bag and pulled out the letter Nan had left for her. “This morning I found this message for me. In it she says she’s writing down what she wants to tell me because she thinks I might not be home when she comes by, or I might not have time to hear her whole story.”
Diana took a deep breath. “Anyway, Detective Silver, Nan tells a story I could hardly believe at first. I still have trouble believing it or thinking of how many consequences her actions could have had. Of course I want to turn it over as evidence, but I’d like for you to read it right now.” She handed the letter over.
Diana sat very still at first. Then she sorted through her tote bag, looking for nothing in particular. Nan’s confession held Detective Silver’s complete concentration, so Diana finally stood up and walked over to the window. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Detective Silver asked. Diana said yes, and the woman nodded to an automatic coffeemaker with Styrofoam cups beside it along with packets of artificial sweetener and nondairy creamer. Diana fixed herself a cup, glad that the pot had just finished brewing, and immediately took a gulp, burning her tongue and swearing. It seemed as if everyone in the room looked up at her, and blushing like a young girl, she gushed an apology, feeling even more conspicuous. She walked back to her chair and sat down, determined not to make another sound.
Detective Silver looked up. “Well, from everything I’ve heard about Nan Murphy, this comes as quite a surprise. I didn’t think she was a take-action kind of girl.”
“She was a girl madly in love,” Diana said. “Emphasis on mad. I think she’d taken leave of her senses.”
“Or this wasn’t her plan at all. It was Glen Austen’s.”
“Maybe it was. Maybe Nan saw a plan gone wrong and decided to blame it on someone else. Maybe the whole thing is a lie to make Glen look as bad as possible.” Diana set down her cup of steaming coffee. “But if she isn’t lying, Jeffrey Cavanaugh could have learned the whereabouts of his wife and daughter weeks ago.”
“Then why didn’t he do something about it?”
“Maybe he did. How do we know he didn’t plant the bomb in Penny’s basement? He’s been around construction all of his life. I’m sure he knows how to build a simple bomb.”
Detective Silver stared at her for a moment then asked sternly, “Are you a parent?”
“You know I’m not.”
“Because if you were, you’d understand how unlikely it would be for Cavanaugh to blow up a house with his daughter inside. His five-year-old child. I would die a thousand deaths before I’d hurt one of my children.”
Diana knew that Silver was smashing her idea from pure reflex. She was not only putting Diana in her place, she was also telling her what it meant to be a parent. The woman’s breath had quickened and her color rose.
Diana leaned back in her chair. “Detective, I know you’re good at your job whereas I have no experience with murder cases, but I believe you’re being a bit self-righteous. You seem to think that because I don’t have a child of my own, I can’t possibly know how much a parent can love a child. I believe I can. I believe I love Willow as if she were my own. And you’re also comparing yourself to Jeffrey Cavanaugh just because you’re both parents.
“Last night I heard the story of a thirteen-year-old boy whose crack-addicted parents simply moved one day when he was in school,” Diana continued. “They left him alone to fend for himself on the streets. Would you do that? No. But they were parents and they did. So just because you would ‘die a thousand deaths’ before you’d hurt one of your children doesn’t mean Cavanaugh feels the same way. Not all parents are alike, Detective Silver.”
The woman had crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing, her face hardening as Diana talked. Dislike—even hostility—had flared in her hazel eyes. But in the minute of silence after Diana stopped talking, the hardness softened, the hostility lessened. Finally she looked down at some papers on her desk, then back up at Diana. “All right, Ms. Sheridan, you’ve made your point. And much as I hate to admit I can be wrong”—a tiny smile here—“it’s a good point.”
“I’m sorry I offended you.”
“I’m getting over it, but if you really want to get in my good graces again, you’ll let me take a sip of that coffee you’re not drinking.” Diana smiled and nodded. Miriam Silver took a good-sized drink of the steaming coffee without the slightest indication of pain. “For now, I only want to go over two things with you. Both are pieces of evidence. One was found last night and is already stored. It’s a white robe—something like a choir robe—made out of a heavy cotton-polyester blend. We found a few hairs on it, but of course, they must be tested for DNA, which doesn’t happen overnight like it does on television. However, we did identify an iridescent white paint—the kind that glows when you shine a black light on it.”
“The angel!” Diana exclaimed, and Detective Silver tilted her head. “Willow was lured outside the house by what she thought was her guardian angel. She said it wore a white robe and a light shined on its face and the face glowed. Those are her exact words.”
“Someone put iridescent white paint on their face and held up a black light to it,” Detective Silver said. “You can buy miniature black lights only five or six inches long. Was this person a man or a woman?”
“Willow got rather huffy about that question. She said angels aren’t boys or girls—they’re just angels.”
“She said nothing about the way the angel moved? Its voice?”
“It ran. It called for her to follow. But she wasn’t looking for male strides versus female. The same with voices. She’s five.”
“And when this angel got closer to you?”
“I saw nothing before the angel started shooting at us. When the first bullet rang out, I pushed Willow to the ground.”
Detective Silver drained the coffee cup, and Diana briefly wondered if the inside of the woman’s mouth was heat resistant. She tossed away the Styrofoam cup then picked up a plastic bag. “I know you have a bee in your bonnet about Jeffrey Cavanaugh, but our men were back searching the woods beyond your house early this morning. They found this.”
She handed Diana a small, sealed plastic bag. Inside was a stainless steel, curb link bracelet with a foldover clasp. The bracelet bore a raised red emblem with a silver caduceus in the middle. A medical ID bracelet. Diana maneuvered the bracelet in the bag until she could see the engraved lettering: GLEN AUSTEN PENICILLIN
He’d told her that he’d worn the bracelet every day since a penicillin reaction nearly killed him when he was fifteen.